


Blanket Cocoon

by dragonaderp



Series: MorMor [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, It's really G rated, M/M, Only T rated cause one line tho, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4240599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonaderp/pseuds/dragonaderp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian looks after a reluctant Jim when he gets sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blanket Cocoon

**Author's Note:**

> Fairly self explanatory really, enjoy :)  
> Written for a friend who wanted more cute MorMor. For you, little bee keeper.

"Take it off!"

"Stop being a baby." "I swear I'll have you flayed alive, don't test me Sebastian!"

"Yeah yeah, let me know when to clear my schedule." With one last tug, Moriarty was completely ensconced in the thickest, heaviest blanket Moran could find, his arms and legs tucked inside keeping him prisoner on the couch.

"There, that wasn't hard, was it?" the sniper said patronisingly.

"I hate you." the criminal grumbled, ducking his head down to cover his mouth and nose in the mound of fabric.

"This isn't what I'm paying you for."

"Think of it as an added bonus then." he deadpanned. "Contrary to popular belief, even Consulting Criminals need to eat and rest, especially when they're sick. Now stay here, I'll be back."

"What are you doing? Where are you going? Don't leave! I...might need you, to hand me...stuff." Moran raised an eyebrow at this.

"Stuff? I'm just going to make you soup, calm down Mr.Clingy. The kitchen is just the next room."

Jim grumbled, pouting, "This isn't becoming of you at all. I'll tell people you're gone soft. I'll fire you!" he shouted hoarsely, to no avail.

"That last bloody job you had me do says otherwise. besides, I'm only doing this so my employer still pays me. You can't get paid by the dead, at least I don't think you can." he called back from the kitchen.

"You're an awful sniper, you know. I only keep you around 'cause I feel sorry for you."

"I can tell, it's so kind of you, Jimmy dear."

"J-Jimmy d-" Jim almost had an apoplectic fit. "I swear to God I'll have you mounted and stuffed!"

Sebastian laughed, stirring the sub-par packet of chicken noodle soup in the pot.

"I'm fairly certain I'm not the one getting mounted and stuffed around here, sir."

Jim went crimson, sputtering and with no comeback. When the soup was ready, Sebastian came back in with a bowl of it and a spoon, sitting down next to the criminal master-mound of blanket. Before the man could get his arms free, Sebastian was holding out a spoon of soup.

Jim glared, though he was almost too shocked to even speak.

"You must be joking." he practically snarled in a low voice, to which the other shrugged.

"Can't trust you to not spill it on yourself."

"I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself, I'm not an invalid!"

Sebastian gave him a serious look.

"Jim, you fainted as soon as you got in the door."

"For only like, a second. I'm fine now!" he protested, though he knew the sniper wouldn't be swayed.

"Open wide, or do I have to make degrading plane noises?" With one last death stare, Jim opened his mouth for Sebastian.

"I swear, if you tell anyone..." he mumbled between mouthfuls.

"My lips are sealed, sir." he said, a small triumphant smirk playing across his features.

After finally finishing the bowl, truthfully with less grumbling than Sebastian had originally anticipated, Jim lay back in the bundle, closing his eyes while Moran cleaned up. Dropping down on the couch beside the criminal, he smiled.

"I can hear you grinning, you twat." Moriarty murmured, one eye opening.

"Me? Never. Cross my heart."

"At least now I remember why I hired you, you're pure diabolical evil."

"I do try my best. Anything you want to watch on television? I'll let you stay up for a little while before I put you to bed."

Scoffing, Jim grumbled out something to do with sharks from within his cocoon. A minute or so into the nature documentary, Jim resurfaced.

"Sorry about earlier, I won't you fire or flay you. And...thank you."

Sebastian smiled softly, leaning over to kiss Jim's forehead. "Not a problem, boss. Love you too."

A few seconds more passed before Jim replied.

"You're still a twat though." Sebastian merely chuckled.


End file.
